


A New Bassist

by ThebanSacredBand



Series: Liberty Song (AKA the Turn band AU nobody asked for) [2]
Category: Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bands, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Benedict Arnold is an ass, Gen, Robert Townsend is tired, band!au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-06-06 06:09:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15188489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThebanSacredBand/pseuds/ThebanSacredBand
Summary: Or - How Robert Townsend joined the band Culper





	A New Bassist

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nemainofthewater](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nemainofthewater/gifts).



> This was a birthday present for Nemainofthewater
> 
>  
> 
> I don't actually know anything about how bands or the music industry works, so just go with it

“Guys, we need a new bassist.”

Caleb and Abe’s heads swivelled round from their conversation to stare at Ben, who was grimacing down at his phone.

“Look, I know Arnold’s not turned up to the past few practises, Benny-boy, but that doesn’t mean you can just kick him out.” 

Ben raised one of his eyebrows “I’m surprised, Caleb, I thought you hated him.” Then he looked back down at his phone, his forehead crumpling “But no, I’m not kicking him out. He just set me this text.” He all but threw his phone down on the pub table, and the other two leant over to read what it said.

It didn’t take long for his friends to scan through the last few texts; several pleas from Ben to Benedict asking him to actually turn up to rehearsal, with a single message from the asshole himself saying ‘I got an offer to play for a guy thats actually good so bye I quit’. Caleb’s fists clenched.

“The asshole! I’ll kill him myself.”

“Same!”

“No offense, Woody, but you can’t kill spiders, what makes you think you could kill a man?”

“I so _could_ kill a spider. And I could kill Arnold.”

“You really couldn’t.”

“I could!”

“Could not!”

“Could too!”

“Cou-”

“Guys, seriously, can you stop bickering for one minute! This is actually kinda serious.” Ben ran a hand through his hair, his eyes not leaving his phone where it was still lying on the table. Caleb and Abe stared at him.

“Uh, Ben?” Abe was the one to speak, Caleb had never been the best at calming people down. “It’s just Arnold, we can get a new bassist, it’s not a big deal.”

“But it _is_ a big deal! We were so close to _being_ a big deal!” The worry in Abe’s and Caleb’s eyes turned to confusion. Ben looked up, slightly ashamed. “You remember my friend Alex from college? Well, it turns out his dad is George Washington, like _the_ George Washington, and apparently he now owns a record label? And Alex said he’s persuaded him to listen to some of our music if we send it in. I was going to tell you guys, but I wanted the whole band to be there. And now we don’t even have a whole band.” He sighed, his whole body slumping “Sorry guys, I should have told you sooner.”

“Hey, it’s alright Ben, we get it, you wanted it to be a thing to celebrate.” Caleb reached over and put his hand on Ben’s shoulder, shifting his chair round the table as he pulled his best friend into a one-armed hug. Abe flung his hand across the table, trying to pat Ben’s other shoulder.

“Yeah, it’ll be fine Ben, we’ll find a new bassist, how hard can it be?”

 

***

 

The moment _those three_ walked into the pub, Robert knew something bad was going to happen. Not that they were bad people, and not that Robert disliked them in anyway. But Ben Tallmadge was impulsive, Caleb Brewster was reckless, and Abraham Woodhall was always up for any sort of hijinks the other two suggested. It was a recipe for disaster.

It didn’t help that the trio had somehow, without knowing it, got Robert twisted around their little fingers. It meant that every other week Robert would get a call asking for a drive home from goodness knows where, or a little bit of help because someone had somehow hurt themselves but not badly enough to go to hospital. And Lord help him, he always went.

It wasn’t that there was anything obviously different about them this week, but somehow Robert could just feel that something really bad was going to happen, and yet again he wouldn’t be able to stop it.

He was just about to start clearing some tables when he noticed Ben’s gaze at his phone change, his face turn slightly paler. He decided to clear tables at that end of the pub first, and eavesdrop into the conversation. Which, ok, wasn’t polite, but he knew the three well enough by now that they’d tell him anyway at some point, and it wasn’t as if, if it was a secret, there was anyone else for Robert to tell.

“Guys, we need a new bassist.”

Oh, well then, there it was. He kept a straight face, clearing the rest of the deserted tables and then returning to the bar, waiting until he was facing away from everyone before relaxing. No, Robert, it’ll be fine. They won’t ask you, because they don’t _know_ you play bass, so its fine, Abe won’t give you _that look_ so you won’t give in in two seconds and somehow end up in a band, because everything will be fine. Deep breaths.

“Did you boys say you were looking for a bassist?”

Oh no.

“Oh, uh, yeah, Mr Rivington, sir, our old one just quit.”

Oh No.

“Well, I just _happen_ to know that our friend Townsend plays bass.”

Oh. No.

Robert felt his shoulders tense, and thought that maybe, just maybe, if he keeps washing up and pretending that he can’t hear them then the conversation won’t be real and he can…

“Robert?!”

Well, there goes Robert’s chance for a quiet life.

 

(A week later he gets a phone call from his father.

“Robert! I heard you’ve joined a band. I’m so glad you’ve made some friends and got yourself a hobby.”

Robert plants his face into his desk.)


End file.
